


Make It Feel Like I Fought For Something

by ZiamsLarry



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Asshole Harry, Baker Louis, Dunkirk, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Flashback, Fluff, Home, It’s Larry but Harrys name is Alex in this from Dunkirk, M/M, Minor Character Death, Soldiers, War Fic, You’ll see, amputate Harry, only for a little bit, so I wasn’t sure what relationship to tag it as, you’ll see!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 19:54:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13488633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZiamsLarry/pseuds/ZiamsLarry
Summary: Home.It’s a simple word, that has a million and one reasons behind it.When most people hear the word home, they think of family, friends, loved ones; even their pets. They think of safety, comfort - security. All the ways that it can build up a home for someone, it’s the safe place for many to go. A lot of soldiers had been fighting for the same exact reason, fighting for survival so they could come home. Come back to their wives, husbands, children, pets, family - everything, they were fighting to stay alive to come back for that. Even Tommy was fighting for his goldfish that he left in the hands of his close friend - everyone had something they were battling for.Everyone had something.Except Alex.-Or the one where Alex doesn’t know what he was fighting for in the war, until he meets the cute baker handing out sweets to the soldiers that have come home under a weird circumstance.





	Make It Feel Like I Fought For Something

**Author's Note:**

  * For [enigma_scars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigma_scars/gifts).



> First at foremost!! 
> 
> Enigma_Scars I really loved every prompt that you gave me, but I ended up going with this one; 
> 
> “Alex returns from War and finds Louis at the station.
> 
> Louis is distributing sweet buns when a particularly pissed off soldier smashes a bottle of beer on someone and another tries to hold him back.
> 
> The saviour ends up getting a cut on his forehead and Louis helps him get firstaid.
> 
> Love ensues.”
> 
> I unfortunately didn’t do any smut in this one, because as I wrote it out it didn’t feel like it fit in the scene I was setting. With that said, I really hope I did this justice for you, and you love it!
> 
> BIG SHOUT OUT TO MY BETA AJ!! Thank you for putting up with my whining and bitching all through this story, and thank you for helping me finish it, it means so much to me! I love you a lot for it, thank you again!
> 
> Trigger Warning!!
> 
> There’s a minor character death in the flashback at the start, it’s no one major but just becareful if it triggers you. Do remember this is a war fic! 
> 
> With all that being said, I hope everyone loves this fic! :)

_”_ _Styles!”_

  
_Alex whips his head to the left where the voice came from, his eyes widening when they lock with his comrade-in-arms. His mate’s arms are waving all over the place, his own eyes are open wide the same as Alex’s, his mouth is moving but Alex can’t make out anymore words coming from him. An airplane glides through the air above them, causing the trees to rattle loudly, dust balls forming along the ground. Another plane shorty shoots past as well, letting a shrieking siren noise out - it causes everyone around to erupt in a loud manner. Screams and shouts of names are being thrown left and right, startling many people but mainly just making them even more frightened._

  
_Alex grips onto his gun harder, fingers turning white from the force of his hands. His helmet clanks against his head hard when a soldier pushes past him, making himself twist a little bit in his spot. Another plane zooms by, this time everyone knows it’s a missile plane; it’s no surprise when they all jump to the ground, laying flat on their stomachs. Their guns are thrown to the side as their hands come above their heads, eyes squeezed shut as a missile is dropped. Everyone prays that it doesn’t land near them._

  
_It lands, causing a major explosion to go off not to far from them; as soon as the earth has settled once more everyone jumps up back onto their feet._

_  
“Move! Move!” Sergeant Vendo screams once everyone is back on their feet and has their weapons._

_  
They all follow the order, quickly hurrying themselves further into the jungle. It’s a mess of soldiers all fearing for their lives as they push and shove against everyone, desperate to escape past where the missile had been dropped. It’s only a matter of time before another one will hit the ground, and going by the pattern of each one the next is definitely bound to hit them if they don’t keep moving._

  
_Alex stumbles behind, managing to get his feet tangled in a loose bush vain nearly causing himself to trip. He catches his balance before the chance arrives, hurrying his pace up to be alongside everyone else again. The noise of another plane shoots past causing everyone to wail in distress as their feet move just a bit faster, trying to get away. It’s hectic seeing twenty or so grown men stumbling around the jungle, weapons held tightly in their hands as they make their way through.  
It’s too loud, too chaotic that no one even sees it coming, no one would've ever thought of the possibly of it._

  
_Alex flinches when someone pats his shoulder quickly, but his head snaps toward Sergeant Vendo when he yells out something along the lines of ‘Contact!’ before he’s taking a step forward. It happens all in slow motion, Alex watches as Sergeant Vendo moves, his foot connecting to the ground when a detonation happens. Another explosion goes off, and it causes everyone in the five meter radius of Vendo to be thrown backwards, everyone landing flat on their arses but no one seems to pay mind to that when their eyes all land on their Sergeant, or well, what is left on him._

_  
It’s like everyone just knew what it was, what happened. All the soldiers had been too worried about the missile planes, that not one had bothered to check for land mines. No one fucking checked the area they were walking for the mines, no one did it and now they’re face to face with pieces of their Sergeant. From where Alex landed he can see the right leg of Vendo, basically blown to bits and his boot not too far from the leg. The rest of the Sergeant's body is lying lifeless on the ground not far from Alex himself._

  
_Alex is one hundred percent certain he would vomit if he wasn’t in such shock._

  
_Everyone knew this would happen, it was a war for god's sake, people were going to die. Although to witness it first hand, to see someone you were just having a beer with the previous night die right in front of your eyes, is enough to throw even the most calm, collected man into insanity. Shock runs through everyone's veins, but a noise of missile ripples through the air once again and everyone knows they need to keep moving now._

  
_Alex watches as everyone picks themselves up, trying to shake what just happened before moving themselves away from the scene. They are all cautious to where they walk now, looking down to make sure they can avoid any more of them. Alex keeps his eyes locked on his Sergeant (what’s left of him anyway) unable to fully comprehend what had just happened._

_  
“Styles!” Someone shouts again._

  
_His eyes stay strained on the corpse, his heart beating in his ears. He has killed people, he has watched other people die, but it never felt real. Never did, until now._

_  
“Styles!” Again, someone shouts._

_  
Loads of men have died around Alex, but none ever meant as much to him as Vendo did. Vendo trained him, saved him in more ways than one. Vendo was a hero, and Alex couldn’t even save him in return, instead he watched him die._

_  
“Styles, wake up!”_

_Alex’s head shoots to the voice, his eyebrows knitting in confusion when he sees no one around._

_  
“Styles, wake the fu_ ck up!”

  
Alex’s eyes snap open quickly enough to make small white dots appear in front of his face, a quick spin in his mind before his eyes are focusing properly on the figure sitting in front of him.

  
Tommy is looking at him with a small half smile on his face, arms folded in front of his body and resting on the small table separating them. Alex grunts to himself, his eyebrows furrow together when he stares Tommy down, taking in the sharpness of his jawline and the way his body is being hugged by his outfit. It’s plain deep green pants, along with the fitted shirt. Badges lined up along the breast of the shirt, his hat placed neatly on the table so his black hair is left to fall across his face. The look on Tommy’s face is soft and understanding, obviously knowing what Alex was going through in his sleep.

  
Tommy is just a reminder of what had happened, so Alex closes his eyes tightly once more - a small calm down for himself, before reopening them letting another hefty sigh leaving his mouth.

  
“What?” Alex speaks grungy, leaning forward from where he was hunched over, “What do you want?”

  
“Well besides the fact that you were basically screaming in your sleep,” A pointed look is shot towards Alex, causing the man to just roll his eyes. “We’re about to pull up to the station Alex, we’re home.”

  
_Home._

  
It’s a simple word, that has a million and one reasons behind it.

  
When most people hear the word home, they think of family, friends, loved ones; even their pets. They think of safety, comfort - security. All the ways that it can build up a home for someone, it’s the safe place for many to go. A lot of soldiers had been fighting for the same exact reason, fighting for survival so they could come home. Come back to their wives, husbands, children, pets, family - everything, they were fighting to stay alive to come back for that. Even Tommy was fighting for his goldfish that he left in the hands of his close friend - everyone had something they were battling for.

  
Everyone had something.

  
Except Alex.

  
Alex has no one to blame but himself for that reason, he never had anything because he never allowed himself to have anything to give a battle for. He watched the way his mother had been affected when his father was thrown into the war as well, watched the way his mother had been a complete wreck when his father never returned. He watched from young eyes the way his mother slowly slipped from her life, the depression washed over and soon Alex was met with the figment of his imagination of the mother he once had. She slowly went down until she was no more, and when she passed Alex had felt nothing.

  
His sister disappeared not long after the passing of their mother, so he never bothered to feel anything for her absence as well. He shut down on himself. He watched everything leave so he never cared anymore; when the letter came that he was enlisted into World War II, Alex had not even cared a single bit.

  
He left behind a near empty one bedroom flat, no pets or photographs lingering in the house. It was cold and empty, mostly what everyone relates Alex to himself.

  
He was the same in the war, cold and distant towards everyone - he came to fight, came to battle the Nazi’s and he frankly didn’t care if he went down in the war. The only people he had ever opened himself up to during his time, was Sergeant Vendo and Tommy. Losing Vendo took the worst toll on Alex himself, and if it was more possible, it just made him shut down on himself even more.

  
Tommy understood, he had to watch some of his close mates pass as well. It was tough - tough for everyone involved.

  
It was over now, it was over and everyone who survived was going home.

  
Alex sighs toward Tommy, shaking his head as he leaned back in the train seat turning his head so he can stare out the window. Trees are passing but slowly getting fewer and fewer of them, before a large passing is opening up. Alex’s brows pinched together as he continues to stare hard out the window, his arms crossing against his chest.

  
What was Alex even going home for?

  
**~~~~**

  
_Screaming._

  
That’s all Alex could hear the second he stepped off the train, his bag slung over his shoulder and hat tipped slightly on his head.

  
So much screaming, it was coming from children, wives, husbands, friends and family all ecstatic to find their loved ones returning. The screaming did nothing but make Alex set his lips in a straight line, an angry look settled upon his face as he blocks out all the thoughts twirling in his mind. Every scream makes him think back to the jungle, the war, but he refuses to let his mind remember it. It’s over now.

  
He grips the strap of his bag harder, watches as Tommy quickly disappears into the crowd - no doubt looking for the friend who has his goldfish. Alex just huffs as he makes his way through it as well, his shoulder bumping into people he doesn’t bother to apologise for. He still doesn’t know what he’s meant to do now, he’ll get on a bus that’ll lead him to a station near his home, he’ll walk home and go inside - everything after that, is up in the air. He just doesn’t know.

  
A frustrated groan makes its way out of his mouth the more he dwells on it, he was in the war for 9 months - his last six weeks were serviced in The battle of Dunkerque (Dunkirk), located in France. The last six weeks were the roughest, toughest and surviving to get home was the worst - another part that Alex blocks out the best he can.

  
So much more shouting can be heard around him, people scattered around that are handing out newspapers, or baked goods - even shouting that the soldiers have returned. Alex wants them all to shut the fuck up already, his eyebrows just scrunch together the more pissed off he gets. He barges past a couple of people, before making it to the entrance of the station - quickly making his way out through the doors.

  
It’s a bit quieter out here, a few soldiers and pedestrians are scattered everywhere - but not too many. It makes Alex sigh in relief, the grip on his bag loosing as he looks around.

  
There’s a boy around the age of thirteen standing near the doors with a bundle of papers. Alex raises an eyebrow as the boy looks at him and he rolls his eyes before moving toward the boy. He shoves a hand in his pocket and grabs the loose change he has, handing it over to the boy who looks at Alex with such admiration in his eyes.

  
“Thank you!” he says chirpy, handing over the newspaper, “You’re my hero!” he adds on which makes Alex stiffen.

  
He doesn’t ever want to be referred to that, if this boy knew what he was like during the war - how cold and distant he was - how many people he had killed, how many he didn’t because he hid away at some point - this kid would not think of him as his hero.

  
Alex just gives a short nod before turning around, shoving the paper under his arms and walking away.

  
The paper stays tucked under his arm the further he walks, it feels like a burning sensation but he isn’t sure as to why that is. Instead he does what he does best and ignores it as he follows his feet. He seems to not travel to far away from the little boy when his ears catch the hearing of a couple of people arguing. His eyebrow raises as he stares over at the commission that’s happening, not being at all surprised that it’s two former soldiers; who they are exactly, Alex wouldn’t be able to tell you.

  
He’s about to keep on his merry way, knows there’s a shuttle bus not to far ahead that’ll lead him home. He’s about to take his first step forward again, when his eyes catch sight of something. Standing just behind the two soldiers arguing seems to be another stand for the soldiers, this one looks more like a baked goods type of one. From where he stands he’s able to spot a couple of muffins on the stand, no doubt freshly baked. His stomach kind of grumbles from the thought of it.

  
There’s cans of drinks lined up as well along it, and for some reasons Alex’s mouth seems to run dry. He lets a huff of air out, shaking his head before walking toward the stand. The closer he gets, the more everything comes into view. Neatly cupcakes piled into a small tower, variety of drinks, a cake and even a small batch of muffins sit neatly in a basket - Alex’s stomach seems to grumble for them.  
It takes him all up until he’s a couple of feet away from the baked goods stand, to see who's actually running it.

  
It’s definitely a man, Alex noticed by the build of his shoulders and body. Though his waist curves into an hourglass shape, his bottom round and plump for a male and his hands seem to be so small and petite. When Alex’s eyes finally travel up to his face, it’s safe to say his eyes widen in shock - because he’s seen a lot of things in his life, but never someone who looks this beautiful.

  
The man's face is all sharp cheekbones, thin eyebrows, thin lips and a cute little button nose. His jaw is littered in a small scruff of beard, and his eyes seem to be the clearest blue Alex has ever seen.

  
The man was simply gorgeous, definitely a one of a kind type of person.

  
Alex doesn’t seem to get a chance to study the man anymore, since the two soldiers before decided to pick up their arguing, making their voices louder, enough to disturb anyone near them. His eyes flicker toward them, internally groaning when one soldier goes to take a swing at another. He has half a mind to just turn on his heels and walk away - though the next sentence that leaves one of the soldier's mouth makes Alex stay put.

  
“Sergeant Vendo _deserved_ to die!”

  
White noise appears for Alex, it seems everything around him disappears besides that one sentence, floating around his head and slightly driving him mad. His fist clenched by his side, his left eye twitches and a near inhuman noise leaves his throat when the sentence once again circles around his head. It felt like a dagger to his heart, the simple words some ungrateful fuck said has affected him this badly, though when Alex slowly comes to, he realises he isn’t the only one who was affected as badly.

  
“Fuck you!” shouts the other soldier.

  
A smashing noise is made, snapping Alex out of his trance - his head snaps towards the noise and notices the soldier who was defending Vendo had smashed a beer bottle from the stand next to them. Glass shards are littered all over the ground, though the neck of the bottle is long and definitely sharp; the soldier looks ready to kill when he charges forward with it to the other man.

  
The other man doesn’t seem to hesitate in grabbing another bottle while the first soldier charges toward him. Except Alex can’t just stand here and watch more people fight when the war is meant to be over. So he doesn't even think twice as he drops the paper from under his arm, along with his bag and is throwing himself toward the men.

  
His arms manage to wrap around the body of the soldier whose bottle was already broken, tugging him back from the other one. He wires his arm around the man's body, so he can reach the hand gripping the broken glass, effectively knocking it out of his hands. It doesn’t seem to last long though, it seems as soon as that bottle is dropped the other soldier comes forward and smashes his bottle onto the head of the one Alex is wrapped around. Glass flies everywhere from the impact, and Alex can see blood forming on the soldier's head no doubt from the cuts the glass would’ve caused. He groans, tugging the man away again while the other one seems to stagger back just a bit - it seems another soldier has made his way over and Alex actually knows who this one is.

  
His eyes make contact with Liam Payne, who just gives Alex a short nod before tugging the other soldier away. It’s a bit of struggle, and Alex watches as the man writhes in Payne’s arms when he gets dragged away, still shouting profanities toward them though, Alex and the other soldier just ignore it the best they can. When Payne and the other soldier have disappeared, Alex finally lets go of his soldier, and bids him a small goodbye when he speaks about the cut on his head. They don’t seem to say much about what just happened, so Alex just watches him walk away before he lets a small huff out.

  
He turns back around to the stall, ready to apologise to the innocent man running it. The man in question is standing kind of shell shock, obviously not expecting to see two former soldiers literally going at it. Alex feels kind of bad, but his mind rewires to thinking that this man would never survive in war. He shakes his head at that thought as he hesitantly makes his way towards the man.

  
“I’m sorry about that,” Alex grunts out, shaking his head before he squats down quickly to retrieve his paper he dropped before hand, along with his bag as well. “You can take the soldier out of the war, but you won't be able to take the war out of the soldier,” he tacks on when he stands himself back up, an apologetic smile stretched on his face.

  
The man seems to shake himself out of the state of shock, turning toward Alex with a small smile on his lips - though his eyes are still a tiny bit wide.

  
“I guess that is true, it was all just sudden though.” The man's voice is high but with an edge of roughness toward it which causes Alex to raise an eyebrow at. “They had been discussing the baked goods that I have here - I don’t even know how the fight really started, one of them mentioned a Vendo and that was it,” he continues on, running his hand through his hair as he sighs.

  
“Sergeant,” Alex almost spits out; he’s overly protective of the deceased man.

  
“Sorry?” the man speaks again, a small squeak in his voice.

  
“Sergeant Vendo, he died on the field - stood on a land mine,” Alex huffs out, gripping onto his bag strap a bit harder.

  
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” He says it with so much sincerity that Alex gives him a small smile in return, before shrugging his shoulders.

  
“It’s the war mate, people die - it’s how it is.” Alex just nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders again.

  
The man seems to flinch at the bluntness of Alex’s words, before regaining himself as quickly as it came. He runs his small fingers through the hair falling over his eyes, then he gives Alex a brighter smile, crinkles forming along his eyes - laugh lines appearing that kind of make Alex’s heart beat just a bit faster. He ignores it though, the swoop in his stomach the longer the man looks at him - because it’s just not Alex, he just doesn’t do feelings.

  
So why the fuck does it feel like butterflies are forming in his bloody stomach when the man directs a smaller, shy smile towards him?

  
“Oh my, you’re bleeding,” the man speaks hurriedly, the smile disappearing as his eyes widen in surprise.

  
Alex’s own eyebrows shoot up at the statement, confusion setting stone on his face as he processes what the man had just said. His eyes automatically drop down to his arms, scanning over the exposed flesh; only to draw up blanks when he doesn’t see anything. He looks back over toward the man who's now squatted down behind the counter - a small rustling noise is heard before the person is popping themselves back up. A damp cloth is held tightly in the man's left hand, while the other one holds a couple of bandaids.

  
“Come here.” He speaks softly, gesturing to the seat behind his stall near him.

  
Alex hesitates at first, still not one hundred percent sure as to where this blood is coming from. He lets his eyes do a quick scan around the area, noticing not many more people are around before he finally shrugs to himself and makes his way to the man. He slumps down on the wooden chair, hearing it let out a squeak from the impact before he’s dropping his bag and the paper once again.

  
“My name’s Louis — Louis Tomlinson, by the way.” His voice is soft and when Alex looks up toward him, he can feel a slight hitch in his breath when their eyes lock.

  
_When viridescent eyes meet lapis lazuli eyes, a flicker of optimism is born._

  
Alex lets his eyes linger for a split second longer, before he casts them down to look at his lap. He doesn’t speak his name, knows that Louis would know who he is by the badge on his shirt. So his voice keeps quiet, as the man above him starts to clean up his wound.

  
It seems the blood was coming from a small cut formed on his head, no doubt happening from the bottle that was smashed just before. He flinches a tiny bit when the damp cloth makes contact with the broken flesh, the sting of alcohol causing him to bite his tongue. It rolls around to be quiet as Louis works on the wound, cleaning it up before placing some bandaids across the mark.

  
It falls even more silent between the pair when Louis finishes cleaning up Alex’s wounds, he takes a small step back from the man as Alex looks back up towards him.The smaller lad has his bottom lip caught between his teeth, for some reason the simple gesture makes Alex’s heart beat a tad bit faster.

  
“Thank you.” Alex finally speaks up, long due from the silence that stretched around them.  
“It’s okay,” Louis voice is quiet, “Anything for our heroes.”

  
It’s a simple statement, it’s one that can be easily brushed off with a smile. Usually, any other soldier would do that - smile, then carry on, on their way. Yet, for some reason it gets to Alex more than it should, the first time he heard this was from a young boy who didn’t know no better. Now hearing it again, it just doesn’t sit with him.

  
_I’m no hero._

  
Alex’s eyebrows scrunch up tightly, a scowl taking over his face as he does so. He should drop it, knows damn well he should. Though he just can’t shake it, he could for the little boy - but not for Louis, and he doesn’t know why.

  
“I’m not a hero.” His voice is dark, reminding him of how he used to sound in the war. “I’m not someone you should look up to, I’m not someone you should classify as a bloody hero. Because I’m not one - I have killed people, I’ve watched people die, I have hidden when they needed me and I have let people die when I could’ve saved them. I never cared if I went down in the war, I wasn’t fighting for anyone. Not this country, not a family and not even for myself. I was just there, so just remember that when you go to call me a hero.” The venom in Alex’s voice, was sharp enough to sting.

  
He watches the way Louis’ face crumbles, how his body visibly flinches from the tone used. He can see the exact moment the tears begin to well in the man's eyes, obviously the lad didn’t mean to cross any lines -- he just said what he thought, assumed was right. The man’s body slightly shakes from the shock, his eyes cast downwards before he squeezes them shut.

  
And Alex? Well, Alex feels like the biggest dickhead ever for doing this.

  
The vexation in his body drains faster than he would’ve thought possible at the site of Louis. He can feel his face softening, his own eyes widening before his body goes slack. Alex has only ever felt the emotions of irritation, detachment and insensiblity. He’s never once felt downhearted toward anyone before. However, the despondency that Louis is radiating around is making him feel it.

  
He picks his body up off the chair, before he slowly and cautiously makes his way over to the downcast man. When he’s about a couple of feet away from him, he searches, hard to find his voice and speak in hopes that he sounds benevolent towards him.

  
“I’m, so sorry,” The words sound foreign to his own mouth, “I’m just - I’m not, I can’t be referred to somebody I’m not. What I said was true, I meant it all but I shouldn’t have snapped the way I did. I’m painfully sorry for my words and the voice I used to speak them. I’m not expecting you to accept my apology, nevertheless please just know how truly contrite I am.”

  
It’s silent between the pair, all that can be heard is the shouting of soldiers passing, kids along with family, friends all crying. The honk of the train goes off, before the noise of it departing echos around the area. Through all the noise, Alex’s eyes don’t leave the head of the small petite man. From the angle of his downcast head, Alex can make out that the man's hair is actually a deep café au lait color - also known as, coffee with milk - It’s gorgeous enough, that Alex has the urge to run his fingers through it.

  
“As a sign of my amende honorable, let me take you out for tea? I know I was a complete jackass just then, and I want to make it up to you the best I can. I will buy you tea, then apologise deep into the sunset - all up until you either forgive, or accept my deepest regret.”

  
Time stands still when Alex waits for the answer from the hombre. It feels like an eternity, though it may of only been a few seconds when Louis raises his head. His eyes now glossed over and shining from the small tears are still as captivating as they were before. A hint of a smile is tugging at the corner of the small man's lips, his eyebrows rising the tiniest bit.

  
“If you’re offering to buy me Yorkshire tea, I will gladly accept.”

  
For what feels like the first time in Alex’s life, a simon-pure smile stretches across his face.

  
_**~~~~** _

  
It took all of ten minutes for Louis to close down his store, packing away all the leftover goods that didn’t sell - before tucking them all away neatly into the back of his pick-up truck. Alex stood quiet for the whole ideal, silently watching the man clean up before it was finally done and dusted. Louis had turned toward Alex, a bright grin across his face as he gestured towards his car. Going by the state that Alex was in, Louis already knew no one was coming to pick him up - so he would’ve just taken the bus home.

  
Alex throws his bag into the back of the truck before climbing into the passenger seat, he tucks the paper in between his seat and the glovebox before Louis starts his car up. They both tug on their seatbelts, before making their way out from the train station.

  
It’s a comfortable silence that falls around them this time, Louis was lowly humming along to the radio as he drove them. Alex keeps his eyes trained on the landscape passing by, his mind finally spiralling toward peace. No random flashes of the war are popping in, no random noises of screaming - and definitely no thoughts of the empty home waiting for him.

  
When they pulled up to one of the closest shops that Louis knew sold tea, they made their way inside quietly side by side. Alex took the lead toward the counter ordering the tea he promised Louis, along with his own order of coffee. The loose change he had in his pockets was enough to pay for their teas, and he gives Louis some sort of small smile before they’re making their way over to the farthest corner in the small shop.

  
Conversation seems to fit upon them easily enough, though most of the talking had come from Louis’ side. It seemed that Louis was able to pick up on Alex’s horrible day-to-day social skills, so he leads each topic that gets brought up. Making sure to ask questions he knows that Alex would answer, and tends to ignore any questions regarding around the war. Louis was pretty sure out of everything, Alex wouldn’t want to talk about what had just happened for a little bit. The only time the soldier had said much about the war, was when Louis let a curious question slip about if he had any scars he was proud of or not.

Alex had looked at Louis with a raised eyebrow, his head slightly tilted to the left before letting a deep sigh out. He proceeded to let Louis know each scar he received wasn’t one he was proud of, they were just signs of survival. He told Louis that his most severe scar he had gotten, wasn’t a scar at all - it was the amputation of his right leg. He explains that before he had left Dunkerque to come home, his leg had gotten trapped in between two edged rocks before a tree branch had fallen onto his leg, effectively breaking the bone. It didn’t stop there, because no less than five minutes later a mine went off near him blowing up everything around him including his leg. It tore his leg from the knee down and for the longest time, Alex was certain he was going to bleed out to death.

  
Tommy and a group of other soldiers had found him a minute later when the mine blew, they did everything they could to get Alex to the medics and try and save his leg - though it turned to no use. Before he was allowed to board a ship to bring him home, he had to go under intense care for his leg before finally removing his flesh and replacing it with a prosthetic leg. He informs Louis that it feels no different from his own leg, it’s just that he’s able to remove this one when he wants to - it gives Louis a small snort of laughter from the comment.

  
After that, their conversations stray into Louis life - learning about the big family he held. Learning about the passing of his mother, how he makes treats and sells them on a daily basis to support everyone, talks about how if his mother didn’t pass he might’ve been enlisted in the war as well, though after the war had begun was when his step-dad finally found his way to them. He tells Alex that he lives with his siblings, his step dad and a big beautiful black irish wolfhound named Clifford.

  
They both seem to lose end of time with their conversations, and for the longest time Alex feels contempt. Happy even, with being able to talk freely about everything and anything. Though through all of this, his heart still beats two times faster when Louis locks eyes with him, licks his lips after sipping his tea, or when he smiles brightly - even when a laughter escapes his lips. For the most part Alex thinks about kissing the boy.

  
It makes his eyes widen the slightest bit at the thought, not exactly sure what brought that on. His eyebrows furrow as Louis rattles on about something that Alex didn’t catch, too wound up with the need to kiss Louis. His heartbeat picks up faster with each thought, his mind twirling around a thousand different thoughts while his eyes stay locked on the thin red lips the boy holds.

  
Louis seems to notice the change in Alex, his left eyebrow raising the slightest bit while a small smirk settles over his face. Alex quickly snaps his eyes back up towards Louis with a bashful smile, before finishing off his coffee.  
Their conversation comes to an end ten minutes later when Louis declares that it’s getting late and it’s probably time to head off. Alex nods along with him, following the smaller boy out of the shop and back to the truck.

  
It felt good not being reminded every three minutes of what Alex just came home for, it feels like the more time he spends with the Louis, the less his mind will think about the war. He doesn’t snap toward any loud sounds when he hears Louis talk, he doesn’t let his mind get lost when Louis smiles at him - it feels like he’s at peace with himself the more he’s around Louis. Alex knows it’s not something that will last forever, he knows he’s going to have a form of post traumatic stress disorder - knows that he won’t be in this happy bubble for much longer. So he clings onto it for as long as Louis will allow him in his presence.

  
It’s when they reach Louis’ truck that the atmosphere between them changes, it went from smooth and calm toward a bit tense, but the strong feel of electricity buzzing through the air. Louis spins around on his heel, his back flat against the drivers door of his truck before his hands stick out, and he’s grabbing ahold of Alex’s shirt.

  
His small fingers twist tightly in the fabric, and he’s tugging the taller man in closer to him.

Alex goes with it, stumbling a tiny bit before catching his balance, his hands coming to rest on the metal besides each side of Louis head.

  
“I,” Louis whispers, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he looks up into Alex’s eyes, “I really want to kiss you. I’m sorry if that’s too forward, but I—“

  
The words die suddenly in Louis throat when Alex leans down to capture his lips between his own. A surprised small gasps leaves Louis mouth, before he’s curling his fingers tighter in Alex’s shirt and pulling him solid against his heat. His eyes slipped closed as he kisses back, a buttery feeling oozing around his stomach.

  
Alex’s heart is beating like a jack rabbit, it thumps against his chest - loud enough that Alex is sure Louis can hear. His stomach swooped the second his lips met Louis, he doesn’t know what fully came over him to lead the kiss - maybe in hearing the small boy say he wanted to kiss him, surged in the urge for Alex to do it.

  
Their lips slid together easily, teeth clanking only a couple of times when the kiss becomes a bit deeper. Alex’s hands drop and search for flesh, his left hand finds its way under Louis shirt and rests on his hip. While his right hand finds its home on Louis neck, squeezing gently as he nips at Louis bottom lip.

  
No one knows how long the kiss goes on for, lost track of time the second Alex’s tongue swiped across Louis mouth asking for access. He stopped caring when their tongues curled together and Alex’s left thigh found its way in between Louis legs.

  
The kiss was far from perfect, though to Alex it was the best thing he could ever claim to have.

  
They only break apart when they run of air to breath, a small gasp leaving both of them as their foreheads rest together. It stays silent for a minute or so, once again not really caring about the time that passes. Their eyes stay connected as Alex drops the hand from Louis neck to his waist, so he can hold the boy properly against his chest. Louis arms release Alex’s shirt, before curling around the broader man's chest.

  
Alex’s fingers dance across Louis waist, taking in the smooth skin and the curve of his body. Mapping out every inch as he looks into the bright blue of Louis eyes, the fluttering feeling in his stomach never leaving.

  
“Excuse me if this is too forward,” Alex begins, a sly smirk on his face, “Though would you like to accompany me back at my place?”

  
Half the reason Alex is asking is so he doesn’t have to go home to nothing just of yet, doesn’t want the feeling of being alone to come get him again soon. Then the other reason is that he isn’t ready to let Louis go just yet, he wants to kiss him some more and his hands beg to explore the boy's body more.

  
Louis let’s a small chuckle escape from his lips, shaking his head a bit before he leans up an inch to peck Alex’s mouth quickly.

  
“Of course, I’d love to come back home with you.”

  
He shimmies his way out of Alex’s grip, enough to push Alex back the tiniest bit so he can get his truck door open. Alex doesn’t even break his smile when Louis jumps in, gesturing for Alex to hope in.

  
When he gets in, does his buckle up and Louis pulls out he lets his mind wonder just one more.

  
It’s the second time he’s heard the word home today, and instead of instantly cringing and turning cold from the statement - he can’t help the small dance his heart does at the thought of Louis calling it his home.

  
He glances over at Louis, the smile still etched in both of their faces, and yeah - maybe Alex never had anything to fight for in the war, nothing to come home to at the start. Maybe he had a reason to be as cold as he was, but sitting here in this car with the most gorgeous boy he’s ever seen - perhaps this was fate’s way of letting him survive the war, so he could make it back to this place.

  
_Because maybe, this boy with the most beautiful cobalt coloured eyes, and the most exceptional curves Alex had ever seen and felt — can make his monotonous apartment, feel like home._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed it! Kudos/comments always appreciated!


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